Have Fun Delivering the Tea
by Kara D
Summary: Spike, Buffy, Post Killer in Me. Some sweet, oneshot fluff written for a friend.


Have Fun Delivering the Tea by Kara Wright

Inspired by Alyxx Duggins

Written for: the only person to write me an m/m slash starring Spike and Xander. Thank you and sorry for the embarrassment.

Disclaimer: Joss owns the characters. I just put them in strange situations.

After the Killer in Me

Spuffy pairing

Full Summary: Buffy has come to terms with her undeniable…no, she realizes that she is madly, blindly, passionately in love with our bleach blonde god.

Buffy had not seen Spike come up from that musty basement since the removal of his chip. She had checked on him the first day or two and he was peachy keen. Walking into the kitchen, she sat on a stool by the bar with a heavy mind. Last night she had been snug in her bed, ready and willing to go into a deep slumber until she saw the small box in the ashtray of her nightstand. She had been required to get one for every room since Spike's return. It was his chip.

Sitting up, Buffy took the device in her palm. How could something so small and insignificant bring a master vampire to his knees? The chip had crippled him, stopped Spike from killing or hurting any human being. Physically, that is.

The blonde pest had drastically devastated, even caused the Scoobies to turn on one another during the Adam debacle. They collapsed under their problems all because Spike told a few fibs. Perplexed by the chip's power over the man she loved. _Wait. I did not just say that. I do not love Spike…do I?_ Buffy had always pondered over what it would be like to love Spike. Of course, it repulsed her in every way possible. That was until she realized that he had gotten a soul. Gone through physical and mental torture in order to receive any reaction from her. When he was telling her about the events in Africa, she knew. Spike fought to be tortured. That was his reward. Guilt. A conscious making him feel pain and remorse for all of the horrible, evil things he had done in his past, just to be able to receive love from her, to fall in the Slayer's good graces.

She had not shown it too well as of late. Even before the soul, he was being tortured…by her. It was hard imagining the feeling he felt and the way it affected him. It dawned on her that he verbal and sexual abuse had hollowed him out. She had made a shell out of him and to him the only thing that could feel it was a soul. Buffy had put it concisely. Spike knew that Buffy did not want to love him because he was a vampire. Angel was a vampire, but he had a soul. She was able to love him because he had a soul. Spike did not. If you derive a conclusion, you have your everyday love story or Sunnydale's version anyway.

An hour flew by before Buffy thought to herself, putting the chip back down in the crystal dish, resting her head on her pillow. Closing her eyes lightly, Buffy smiled. _I love him._

There was a huge thought going on that night. _Would it work? How can I tell him how I feel? It would bring back too many bad memories. Too many…_

If she were to tell him how she felt, it would have to be after he said it. Nevertheless, God forbid her say the words to her ever again. The last time he said it, it was just awful. Buffy thrashed him…

Sunnydale 2002

Buffy and Spike lay in the afterglow of their mutual releases. Spike had yet to roll off her sweat-drenched body, his softening member still buried comfortably inside of her warm depths. Leaning back, Spike looked at her, admiring her flushed face. A small smile formed on his face, "I love you." The words came out faster than he thought them and it was too late to take them back for they already slipped out...

Buffy's face went from glow to disgust and a sneer formed on her face as she pushed him off her and climbed out of the bed, "I told you never to say those words."

It was a slap in the face, "Buffy-,"

"Don't say my name." Buffy pulled on her pants.

"Slayer-," Spike started. He stood up and moved around the bed, reaching out to touch her.

"Spike, if you so much as touch me…" Buffy pulled her shirt over her head and started to leave.

"Buffy, stop!" Spike yelled. She turned to look at him. Her closed fist went back and slammed forward into his face, sending him spiraling back and hitting the crypt's cave floor. Staring at her in confusion, then turning away, Spike wrinkled his nose.

"Spike, you are disgusting. There is no reason for you to be living. You are dirt. When I'm with you, I feel repulsed with myself because I am stooping low enough for you to lay a hand on me. If you so much as think those words again, you'll fit in an ashtray." Buffy walked up the ladder and fled the crypt.

His mind was racing with thoughts of what she said. If she wanted to kill him…that did it.

Hours Later

Buffy came rushing through his door, interrupting the novel he was reading, "Buffy. If I'd known you were comin'; I'd of baked a cake." Spike stood up. Moving closer, Buffy started to remove her black gloves.

"Spike, I need information." Spike smirked.

"I need your cash. I'm not sure I'm sellin' out on Double Meat Palace wages, though."

Buffy did not laugh, "A guy. Calls himself the Doctor."

"Human?" He asked.

"His traffic isn't and whatever he's planning, he's doing it soon."

Spike's eyes glazed over with lust, despite the memories of their previous encounter resurfacing. Leering at her form head to toe, "Soon but not now?"

Buffy wanted him, "Tell me you love me."

Spike studied her quizzically, "I love you. You know I do." Her eyes were burning into his.

"Tell me you want me." Buffy insisted.

"I always want you…in point of fact…" Spike replied in a husky voice.

"Shut up," Buffy grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him onto the sarcophagus. Her small fingers unfastened the buttons of his black shirt, revealing more and more of his flawless chest…well, the nail marks had started to heal…

When his dark shirt peeled back from his torso, Buffy slipped an arm around his neck and brought him down for a kiss. Desperately and passionately, she had Spike make love to her. She did not feel anything he did. It was emotionless.

Sunnydale 2003

She broke what remained of his heart, shredding it into debris left to blow away. She could never fix it, no matter what she did. He stayed destroyed. In fact, Anya had simply stated, "I don't know how he could still love you. All that misery. I would call it quits and say 'Fine. Have it your way.'

Buffy agreed. Despite how hurt she was by the comment. The truth of it was that Spike did love her and he still did. _How?_ She had no idea. _Why?_ That was beyond her. She doubted that he would ever say those three little words to her ever again and it was all her fault.

That was it. With all those thoughts on her mind, Buffy knew what she had to do. Tell him.

When Buffy got to the bottom of the basement stairs, she saw him asleep. He was facing the wall. Walking slowly, Buffy peered over him to see if he had awoken from her presence. Spike's eyes kept and something was in his hand. Curiously reaching over his body, Buffy grabbed it. It was old and discolored, occasionally torn on the edges and corners. Buffy turned it over and read the inscription. It had the most delicate writing she had ever seen…

Buffy

The other side was a picture of her. You could barely make out the face, but it was definitely Buffy…only wrinkly. The Slayer smiled. She slipped the picture back to its original place. Spike's hand. His body shifted, rolling over to face her. Then the idea struck her. Buffy sat on the edge of the cot. She lay down, letting the form of her body mold to the front of his. Buffy intimately against him, but it was not right. It felt…there was something wrong. Turning to where she was facing him, Buffy removed all doubt.

Spike was awake. His eyebrows knitted tightly, "What are you doing?" He whispered.

Buffy snuggled closer to his chest, letting her face rest at the crook of his neck, "I couldn't sleep."

Spike's entire body was tense. Buffy thought that he would never relax, "Buffy…" She looked up, her eyes shining from the light cascading through the small window, "I'm done…I'm not gonna…can't…I won't try…" Spike's eyes closed suddenly, his mouth trembling. Obviously, he was scared.

Buffy reached up to touch his cheek, "Spike." Her tone was soft and comforting, but Spike's reaction to her touch said otherwise, "I-I'm sorry." Buffy was fighting back tears, her heartbeat had hitched and she knew that those tears would be falling any second now.

"Luv, it's okay. Initiative wasn't so bad. Sure I was knocked on my arse, had soldiers diggin' in my brain, incapacitated to the point of unconsciousness…" He laughed nervously .Still, his body was trying to resist touching hers.

Buffy had let the tears fall freely now, "No, Spike. Not the Initiative. About us. I'm sorry that it came to this."

Spike burrowed his brow, "What do you mean?"

"Last year…during the winter…I treated you horribly and I acted like a monster."

Spike interrupted her, "No. I was the monster. You didn't deserve a bloody thing that happened to you. Me on the other hand, I had it coming."

"That's just it! You didn't either. Do you remember the things I said to you? The beatings? All the rejection and mixed signals?" Buffy clung to him, her face buried into his chest as she poured her sorrow out.

"Buffy?"

"Spike, I treated y-you like you w-w-were nothing a-and-."

"I am," He whispered.

Buffy backed her tear-stained face up and stared into his horrified blue eyes, "You're not…you mean everything to me, Spike. I love you." When the last sentence escaped her mouth, the look on his face changed drastically. It was an expression of hope, bliss, and fear. He stared into her eyes with such intensity. He did this until the silence was too much.

"No, you don't."

Confusion. "What did you say?"

"You don't love me, Buffy." Spike stated matter of factly, "You're only here because you feel right guilty."

Buffy was appalled, "When did you become so insightful?" Spike raised an eyebrow, "Spike, I'm trying to tell you that I love you and you give me an answer like that? Why aren't you accepting it?"

The look on his face read pain, "Hurts like hell, don't it? The person you love tossing your emotions back in your face. Denying them?" She knew that he was comparing her situation to his.

"Spike." Buffy whined before leaning in to kiss him. Her hands cradled his face, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to break her chest. It started as chaste as possible. Spike's mouth remained closed tightly and he was barely responding. Buffy was trying. Moving slowly, her mouth never parted. Pulling away, Buffy questioned him, "What's wrong?"

Spike's eyes jolted open, "What's wrong? What's wrong! Buffy I tried to rape you and you prance down here like nothing happened!" Spike sat up, "Deciding that laying next to your attempted rapist and tellin' me you love me and snoggin' my face off in the bloody process. You tell me what's wrong!"

Buffy didn't know how to respond, "I'm, Spike, I-,"

"Buffy please stop. You're not yourself." He scratched the back of his head, "Did Red do another spell?"

"Spike, I am. This is me. I'm not under any influences but my own. This is me being me…bearing my soul to you…I'm Buffy." Buffy waited for a response.

"You're just stressed. Everythin' goin' on, I'd be, too. I surprised Willow hasn't come down here confessin' her love for me." Buffy sat up with him and grabbed his arm.

"Why don't you believe me?"

Spike slid his gaze to his lap, "Because I hurt you so badly…you can't love someone that did the things I did to you…"

Buffy lifted his chin with her forefinger, "Why do you love me, then?"

Spike laughed, "You're the only thing that makes sense to me." Looking into his ice blue eyes, which were twinkling from the building tears and small traces of light that found its wait into the dark, dank basement.

Smiling, Buffy shook her head, "I don't make a lick of sense."

Both smiled and Spike reached out to hold her hand, "You're perfect, Slayer." She was crying. Spike cupped her cheek with his hand, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb, "Luv?" Her eyes met his. Spike's thumb went to her lips. The pad of his thumb stroked her mouth.

"Hmm?" Buffy's eyes fluttered closed.

"I love you. I really do. There's not a reason. Not a purpose. I just love you, Buffy Anne Summers." Spike looked away, "You have no idea what it's like when the love of you life doesn't love you back."

She was ashamed of herself, "Now I never have to. That's the thing, Spike. I was too scared and stupid to tell you."

"Why would you be scared?" Spike asked, puzzled.

"I didn't want-want things to change with everyone."

"Your friends? You put me through hell because you were scared of what your friends would think?" Buffy couldn't look at him. She just nodded, "Seems right."

"What?"

"You scared of what other people think of you. You _are_ the big boss. If you start snoggin' the secretary, they look at you differently.

Surprised by the accuracy of his comparison, Buffy smiled, "I'm not anymore."

"Are you just sayin' that because the bloody world's gonna end?"

"No!"

Spike cocked an eyebrow, "Right, it's late. You should be off to bed, pet."

Buffy nodded again; hesitantly she pushed her legs off the cot, "Spike?"

"Yeah, luv?"

"Can I stay with you?" Buffy asked. For some reason or another, Spike didn't want to say 'no'.

"Sure."

Buffy swung her sock clad feet back over, "Will you hold me?"

Spike bit his bottom lip, "Buffy," He groaned, "I don't know…" Buffy gently kissed him. It was then that he touched her without her pushing him, albeit was only her waist; she let him stroke her side until, "Buffy, I can't do this."

She frowned inside, "What? Why?"

His glances were shifty, "Being with you…it would be wrong…I tried to--,"

Buffy was tearing up again, "Spike, I know that you and I had out problems, most of them were physical, I'll give you that, but things are different now. I love you. You know this," He still wasn't comfortable with the situation, "And I think that because we're both different people now and if we were to move it up to a physical…sexual level, it would go better than the last time."

In a matter of seconds, Spike was out of the bed and across the basement, "Is that what this was about?" He was the angriest she'd ever seen him, "Wanted a proper shag, then you'd be off on your merry fuckin' way? I think that's as low as you could go! I get a bloody soul for you and you have the nerve to ask me to put it to you?" Spike stopped. Buffy was silently crying on the edge of his bed, that look on her face said it all, "God, no, you wanted…" Spike began mentally kicking himself. Buffy buried her face in her hands as she sobbed. The tears were dripping from the curve of her jaw. Spike froze in his place, "Buffy, I'm sorry…It's just after everything that happened last year, I thought that--,"

Buffy's head shot up, "I wanted to make love to you!"

"What?"

"I came down here to tell you that I loved you and when we kissed, the first thought that sprang to mind was the idea of making love to you!" His shoulders slumped. He had made a complete prat of himself and he knew it.

"Buffy," Within seconds, Spike was kissing her. His mouth plundered hers in a desperate moment of blind passion. Spike was being as gentle with the kiss as he possibly could. It existed to explore and memorize her once again. Pulling away, Spike asked, "Are you sure, Buffy?"

"Yes," She breathed, pulling him in for another long, lazy kiss. Her hands traced the hem of his black shirt, pushing it up to feel his defined stomach. She removed her hands and idly put them in his hair before she got a better idea. Buffy ran her palms across his chest, the dark material blocking her from feeling his cool skin.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Spike had all of her pleasure spots dedicated to memory. Buffy was ready. Then it hit her. He was still trying to please only her, ignoring his own satisfaction. This moment was supposed to be about the both of them and he had twisted it into being about her.

"Spike, stop." He jumped away, putting more than enough distance between them. She slapped her forehead and growled. She had forgotten about the bathroom. It probably sounded like… _damn it_. He started to pull down his shirt, when Buffy caught his arm.

"I'm sorry." He cried out, trying to get out of the bed and away from Buffy, "I didn't mean to go too far. I-,"

"No. Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. Sit Down." Buffy stood up and turned, signaling him to sit. He obeyed, his eyes never leaving hers. Buffy knelt between his legs and kissed his jaw. She moved lower to kiss his neck. As she planted soft kisses along the pale column of his throat, Buffy pulled on the bottom of his shirt. Spike's arms lifted instinctively as she showered him with affection. She threw the cursed material across the room.

His alabaster chest seemed to glow in the lighting. Her mouth descended to the center of his chest, making him jump. She stopped at his navel and started to unbuckle his belt. The thin leather slipped easily through the belt loops of his denim pants and fell with a 'clink' on the cement floor. The button came undone easily. She slowly pulled the zipper down just enough to see the dark curls that lay hidden by the apparel.

Buffy continued to kiss his stomach, feeling him groan as she lowered her mouth. His hand fisted in her blonde locks. He let out a chuckle when she swirled her tongue in his navel, "What are you doing?" Spike asked.

It broke her heart to think that Spike was confused about what was going on. He didn't understand what she was doing because she'd never done this before. It was all her fault that he couldn't perceive it. Their trysts had always been about her getting off, but never about him. That was what she led him to believe, his personal pleasure didn't matter, and it was about her and only her. He was there to please her and that was all. No exceptions.

Buffy leant down and kissed the space between the flaps of his zipper, looking at him with tender eyes, "Loving you."

Morning

Buffy opened her eyes, "Mornin', luv." She smiled and moaned into his chest, "Sleep well?"

"What sleep?" She joked, pulling the sheets up her body as she felt his arm go around her shoulders, "Didn't seem like much sleep to me…"

Spike kissed the top of her head, "So…now that it's mornin'…you gonna take back the night?" She lifted her head, her hand rested on his chest, which was home to several nail marks.

"Spike, why would I do that?"

"Don't know. Seems like what always happens with me." He looked at the basement door, "Bugger." There were several girls giggling in the kitchen. The clinking and sloshing of them making breakfast echoed through the room.

"Crap." Buffy whispered, "What am I going to do?"

Spike furrowed his brows, "Thought we agreed you were done hidin' from your mates?"

Buffy sighed, "My _friends_, yes, several potential Slayers that are looking up to me…no."

Spike laughed, "Well, pet, looks like you're teachin' 'em how to distract the enemy." Buffy laid her head back down and traced irregular patterns on his taut chest, "You're gonna have to go up there. Dawn'll go into your room, you won't be there, and she'll come the bloody hell down here."

Buffy faux whined, "Do I have to?"

Spike nodded, "Or, if you like, I could definitely have you stay here. Just shut that door permanently."

Buffy scoffed, "What about food?"

"I can just eat you."

Buffy hit his arm, "Ew!"

"Was talkin' blood, luv, but if you got other ideas, lets hear 'em." Spike wagged his eyebrows, his eyes clouding with desire.

"You're a pig, Spike."

"And you _love_ it." Buffy smiled. Spike pushed her off him, rolled over, and pinned her to the cot, "Now, what was your plan?" Buffy rolled her eyes and Spike caught her off guard as he kissed her. Buffy could feel his lively length pressed against the inside of her thigh.

"I love you." She whispered when he pulled away. Spike put a hand between them, tapping the inside of her knee. Buffy started to spread her legs, "Ouch. I'm too sore. I haven't used those muscles in…a while. In fact, I didn't know I had them…" She grumbled.

"Guess we gotta break 'em in, then?" Spike leaned back, positioning both hands on her knees and pulling them apart. The aching muscles stretched. Buffy didn't know whether it was pleasure or pain, but she didn't want it to stop. Before she knew what hit her, Spike pushed himself through her entrance, letting go of her knees and moved his hands to her hips, holding her to the bed as he pistoned into her center. She could feel him touch her core with every quick thrust.

She was at a climax in moments, her nails digging into his arms, "Spike, oh, God…" Spike moved his hand to her clit, gently stroking it in slow circles until her inner walls fluttered around him. He was nowhere near climax and kept going, Buffy wasn't about to complain, until the next orgasm hit her with lightning speed. Her walls started to tighten around him, but he resisted his urge to come, forcing himself to hold back his release until she had had enough.

Spike moved his hand to the spot above her head, bracing himself for her next orgasm. He continued to thrust into her with force, her legs wrapping around his narrow hips, "Buffy, I love you..."

She cried out feeling as if she was going to lose her mind. Buffy was about to hit pleasure overload, "Spike, I can't...it's too much…"

He kissed her temple and moved faster, her arms clang to his shoulders, "One more, Buffy, and I'll come with you…" Spike ground his hips harder into her sex, her release too close for his own good. Buffy came, her muscles clamped around his member, making him roar out his orgasm. They rode out their coming, looking deeply into each other's eyes.

He rolled off her and touched the center of his chest, trying to catch his lack of breath. Spike looked at her as she closed her eyes and ran a hand through her tousled hair, "Best…be…gettin'…upstairs…pet…"

"I guess you're right…I have to go." She stood up, completely comfortable with the nudity. Her legs were wobbly from the multiple orgasms she's just had.

"God, you're lovely."

"Lovely?" Buffy questioned his word, "Thanks." She searched the floor for her clothes, "Where the hell did my clothes go?"

Spike shrugged, adjusting his leg, "Don't know. Just use this." He leaned over the edge of the bed and threw her a button up shirt.

"Spike, this is your shirt."

"Yeah," He said, "And you're gonna wear it unless you wanna go out there completely starkers."

"Fine." She growled, pulling the shirt over her body with a frown on her face, "You want anything?"

Buffy braced herself for the scene about to unfold, _here goes_, she sighed and turned the doorknob. The Slayer stepped out of the basement with a long red shirt on, covering any private bits, but leaving less to the imagination.

"Hey, Sp-Buffy?" Kennedy asked, a grin widening on her face. Vi was next to her, a bright red blush flushing her cheeks, "So, what you been up to?"

Buffy swallowed hard as Willow entered the room, "Buff? We were…why are you coming from the basement wearing Spike's…oh!" She snapped her mouth shut and smiled. Buffy rounded the bar in the kitchen with a nervous tingle growing in her stomach, "Sleep well?"

Buffy looked at her and widened her eyes, "Willow, where did you put the tea?" Willow walked in behind her and grabbed a small box of Lipton, "Thank you." She started to run some hot water, filling a teapot, "Good morning, girls." No one said anything as she finished making the beverage. When she was finished, Buffy filled a coffee mug with the hot tea and started for the basement.

Willow smiled, "Who's that for?"

Buffy raised her eyebrows, "Spike. Why?" She asked curiously.

Willow shook her head, "Oh, nothing." Buffy opened the door and before she started to stride down the stairs, Willow cleared her throat, "Buffy?"

"Yeah, Wil?"

"Have fun delivering the tea."

Authors Note: Leave me a review. I worked hard on this! Well, okay, it came to me in a dream. I didn't really work too hard. I do this 99.99999999999 of my time, so it was a piece of cake. I'd really like to know what you thought about this. Remember, the review fairy needs to visit every once in a while! The hangover fairy needs to stop by too…


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